


Round Two

by Living_Free



Series: Slip and Slide [51]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Justice League Dark (Comics)
Genre: Batfamily, Crack, Ethics of immortality, Family Feels, Fluff, GUYS NO ONE ACTUALLY DIES, Gen, Humor, Hurt Damian Wayne, Hurt/Comfort, I swear I would never do that to you, Jumping on the constanting/king shark bandwagon, M/M, Please Don't Hate Me, Protective Dick Grayson, Protective Jason Todd, Tim Drake is Like a Disney Princess, batbros, because it's so unlikely and dumb and it makes me smile
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:54:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24196282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Living_Free/pseuds/Living_Free
Summary: Damian glimpses the Great Beyond.Dick enhances his motherly bond.Bruce's blood pressure is on a pogo-stick,and Tim has reason to be ecstatic.
Relationships: Constantine/King Shark, Dick Grayson/Wally West
Series: Slip and Slide [51]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/925041
Comments: 21
Kudos: 209





	Round Two

Damian could not believe that he was actually going to die – like  _ Todd _ , of all people. He looked at his open wound and pondered the fleeting instance of human life, and how little it all mattered in the grand scheme of things, even his own highly consequential existence. As though from a great distance, he heard screams – Grayson – he registered dimly, with a twinge of sadness. Grayson was holding him and screaming as though he was losing his own life, and that it was his blood staining the concrete below. 

It had been to save father, and that was all that mattered, Damian thought resolutely. Father was more important – for the family, and for Gotham. Damian was a soldier, easily replaced. What mattered was that Damian had taken the shrapnel hit flying towards father. Todd had dispatched the villain – who was it again? Ah, yes, Gorilla Grodd – with a truly inhuman show of rage, going head to head with the creature and ripping it’s arm out of it’s socket. 

Damian had always suspected that Todd still had his Lazarus Pit enhanced strength. It was only truly brought out when he descended into one of his maraudering rages, a state most closely mirroring the Pit Madness. It was nice that he felt so strongly about Damian. 

He felt the vibrations of the Batmobile and the cold grip of his mentor, Raven. She was bent low and whispered into his ear, “You know what is going to happen. Focus on keeping your mind, so that you will not lose yourself to the afterlife. Focus on this night, on this instance, so that we can call your spirit back. It will be painful to be in limbo, but you must try. We will find a way, we will get a new body-”

Ah, so he was to die after all, even if his Mistress was going to work her dark magicks later on. Grayson’s sobs grew louder, even as his hands pressed against the wound in Damian’s side, trying in vain to stem the blood loss. Damian looked up blearily and focused his gaze on Grayson’s face. To his credit, Dick held his gaze. He was saying something, but Damian’s hearing was fading.

Father was working on automatic, his medical training kicking into full gear as he and Pennyworth prepped the surgery and got to work. It was in vain, Damian realized. He was going. 

Grayson was still there. “I love you, Dami,” he whispered over and over, like a chant. Damian held onto that, those sweet words, even as he let go. 

A brief respite of darkness and silence was followed by a vision of what appeared to be the backyard, with Damian’s little farm. Was this heaven? How lovely. Perhaps Grayson would come waddling out with biscuits in a minute, with Terry following him- ah, but Mistress Raven had instructed him to hold onto his identity, he must focus-

Then there was light. And pain, and shouts, and-

Drake. 

Drake’s face was swimming into view above him, grinning like a manic elf, holding a now empty syringe.

“Heyo Dames.”

Damian spluttered. “W-what ho, Drake.”

Grayson was crying again, loud and relieved. Todd was beside him, and they were crumpled together on the floor next to Damian’s bed, where Todd was holding Grayson. “Am I alive?” Damian mumbled. 

“Yup,” Tim grinned. “How was the afterlife?”

“It was pleasant,” Damian replied, his voice becoming steadier by the second. “I do not see why Todd makes such a hullabaloo about it.”

“Hey!” Jason hiccupped indignantly. 

“What ho, Todd. I saw you rip off Gorilla Grodd’s arm, it was most vengeful.”

“You’re welcome,” Jason grumbled, getting up and pressing a shaky kiss to Damian’s ear. “Next time, don’t be so fucking stupid.”

“But father would have died had I not stepped in,” Damian said. 

“I would have died a hundred times over for you, Damian,” Bruce whispered. “My brave, wonderful boy.” 

Damian smiled weakly. “What ho, father. Can you pick Grayson up? He is still weeping.”

Bruce went over to Dick and picked him up, pressing soft kisses to his eldest’s face and holding him. Their Damian had survived, they were allowed to cry a bit. Bruce settled Dick at Damian’s bedside, where Dick quietened and began to absentmindedly smooth Damian’s hair back and wipe the grime and dust from his face. 

“What ho, Grayson,” Damian said quietly. 

“Hi baby,” Dick replied with a watery smile. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“You were crying a lot,” Damian said. “Did you drink any water?”

Dick shook his head and pressed his forehead to Damian’s in a silent gesture of love. They stayed like that for some time, Grayson’s calming aura enveloping Damian as well. This is nice, Damian mused. I hope Grayson does not move. 

Meanwhile, Tim was discreetly trying to dispose of the syringe that he had used to revive Damian. Distantly, Damian wondered what had been in the vial. 

“You can sleep now, Dami,” Dick whispered. “We’re all here to look after you.”

“Oh jolly good,” Damian said, and closed his eyes. He was rather tired. All around him, his family stayed awake and watchful, like guardian angels watching over their charge.

***

The next day saw Damian in bed, all bundled up and snug under a blanket with hot tea and Grayson and baby Terry. His wound was completely healed, with only scar tissue remaining. He had been reluctantly informed by Bruce that yes, he could technically go back to his training, but wouldn’t he like to take a nap, maybe rest a little? Perhaps brush up on his magical theory?

Damian’s family – and all family adjacent members – were in the house, all milling around. Colin had spent a solid ten minutes crying, and was currently next to Damian, reading a book to him. 

“-and whereas the olde magicks are pre- um, predisposed to drawing from the elements, it is accessing the power of the immortal soul that is most potent-“ Colin paused. “Dami, do you actually understand all of this?”

“Mostly,” Damian shrugged. “Mistress Raven guides me when I do not understand the exact wording. Do continue to read, Colin, your voice is most comforting.”

“Aw, thanks, Dami-“

There was a sudden spike in the volume of voices from down the hall. Most notably, Bruce’s. Barbara looked up and frowned. “What is he on about now?”

Damian perked up. “Can we go and see? It would be ‘getting the tea’, as Todd says.”

Barbara piled the kids onto her lap and rolled down the hall, with Dick following, holding baby Terry. In the main room, Bruce was sat in a heap on the couch, while Tim was pirouetting around the room, giggling. 

“Bruce, what’s wrong?” Dick asked. “Tim stop spinning, please.”

“Timbit, calm your tits, man,” Jason said, but sounded amused. Jason looked at the assembled crowd. “Ladies and gentlebugs, I think that it would only be fitting if Tim revealed how he achieved the miracle from last night.”

“Tee hee,” Tim giggled, his voice light and flighty. “It was very simple. You all know that I have made great strides in my quest for immortality-“

Bruce groaned. 

“-so that I can be with Kon forever! One of these trials was to recreate water from the Lazarus Pit.” Everyone gasped. “Yes! Timmy has successfully created a synthetic version of the Pit water, with all the rapid healing effects and none of the associated madness!” Tim began to do the macarena, and Jason and Wally joined in, Wally being the more graceful dancer of the two.

Damian watched them, his jaw on the floor. Drake had healed him with synthetic pit water? Drake had the formula for immortality? And all so that he could stay a lustful pixie for eternity? 

“Drake you marvelous squirrel,” Damian said admiringly, “your genius has saved me! How can I ever repay you?”

Tim stopped dancing. “By not getting mad at me for the next sentence,” he said. “I’ve been fine tuning the formula, but it turns out that instead of reversing aging, my formula currently stops the aging process for a little while.”

“How long?” Bruce asked warily. 

Tim blushed. “About a year. So that means that Damian might not age biologically for a year.”

Damian’s eyes popped from his skull. He was stuck as an eleven-year-old for  _ two _ years? Behind him, Dick was beaming, because that meant that Dami was going to stay as his small button baby for longer! This was the best day ever!

“I…I suppose that it is an acceptable trade-off,” Damian hedged. “Thank you, Drake.”

Tim grinned. “You’re welcome! I’m really close to refining my formula to the original pit water specifications, so I should iron out the problem soon. You should thank Dick, too, by the way. I’m fairly sure that when he cried all over you, some of his tears containing his fluff-magic went some way in stabilizing you.”

Tim continued to twirl, leaving Bruce to follow his son’s movements around the room with thinly veiled horror. Damian and Colin squiggled off of Barbara’s lap and bounced around as well, until Dick grabbed Damian and made him rest, on account of having been reanimated the day before. 

Damian deposited himself beside Bruce, who was still flabbergasted at Tim’s gall. Seeing Damian beside him, however, seemed to turn the tide. Bruce bent over and placed a kiss to the crown of Damian’s head. “Tim’s not so bad, is he?”

Damian looked pityingly at his father. “If you are concerned that Drake will turn evil, father, then you do not know him very well. He only seeks immortality to further his love with the Clone, who is just as dedicated to him.”

“Please Damian, I have had a very trying time of late, do not remind me of that haystack on steroids.”

Damian chuckled, then stopped, recalling as to how he was going to be eleven years old for two whole years. Damnation, that meant another year of not being able to legally drive.

“Your mother called,” Bruce said, out of the blue. In the corner of the room, Dick crushed the flowers he had been rearranging, but immediately felt bad about it. Making sure that nobody was watching, he channeled some of his fluff magic to straighten them out. 

Damian was more sedate about this. “Did she?”

“Yes,” Bruce grunted. “She spent twenty minutes screeching at me. You should call her, I told her that you were asleep.”

“I will,” Damian said, nodding. “Was Grandfather there?”

“He was,” Bruce confirmed. “As were what appeared to be several dozen ninjas. It was alright, because they kept talking and asking about you, and it kind of drowned out Talia’s shrieking. Not that I begrudge her that anger.”

Jason stopped dancing with Tim and whirled around, consequently dropping Tim on his tiny tushy. “Wait, they know that Damian was reanimated?” He demanded. “Do they know how? If they find out that Tim recreated the Pit water-“

“No, I thought of that already,” Bruce hummed. “I didn’t know just what Tim had used, but I had my suspicions. I led them to think that Damian had used his arcane magic to reanimate himself. They are not too familiar with Raven and Damian’s demonic magic, after all. It’ll be the official story to the Justice League as well,” Bruce stated. “That way, anyone who knows that Damian was dead for a minute will only think that it was magic that brought him back – not Tim.”

Tim squealed happily. “Bruce, you’re so clever! You protected sweet, innocent Timmy!”

Bruce sighed. “Of course I did.” Bruce moved his arm so that Tim could squidge into his warm, meaty side, like a cat. “Though I find it difficult to understand why you refer to yourself in the third person.”

Tim said nothing, and began to purr. On Bruce’s other side, Damian was all snug as a bug, and looking very pleased about it. “When are you going to call your mother?” Bruce asked.

In the distance, something crashed. “Dick broke the vase!” Jason tattled happily from the hallway.

“I did not!” Dick replied shrilly. 

Bruce looked down at Damian, who was grinning knowingly. Bruce marveled at his tiny, wise son as Dick came back with vase fragments in his hands, and Jason bouncing on his heels. Dick smiled shamefacedly and disposed of the erstwhile vase and settled his nerves by giving Damian copious kissies. Damian reveled in the affection, and reached out to snag Terry who was waddling nearby.

“What ho, Terrence.”

“Wa’ o,” Terry replied sagely.

“Something awful happened last night, did you know that?”

“Ooh,” Terry said, and grabbed a tiny fistful of Damian’s hair.

“Yes, ‘twas most horrible, I perished last night for a minute, and Drake had to reanimate me. I now officially share a major life experience with Todd, a veritable plebian.”

“Hey!” Jason snapped. 

“The afterlife was nice,” Damian went on, ostensibly to Terry, but so that his whole family’s grief could be assuaged, “I was in the backyard, taking care of the animals. I could see Grayson through the kitchen window, he was making muffins.”

“Muffin!” Terry echoed happily.

Dick sniffled wetly, and Jason wrapped a buff, hairy arm around him. “Why’re you crying, Dickhead? He was happy in the afterlife. That means he went to the nice place, not the heck place.”

“Indeed, this is good,” Damian concurred. “I feared that due to my time in the League, and my actions on their behalf, that I would indeed be bound for the heck place, as Todd says. I was relieved to see that I was in the place where I am happiest.”

Bruce tightened his hold on Damian, as though his son would float away again. Then Jason started to speak and ruined Bruce’s mood. “Of course,” Jason began loudly, “when  _ I _ died, it was  _ awful _ , the pain was never-ending, and I do think that it was because I did not make my peace with death, I was taken so  _ suddenly _ , you see. You can find all the details in my autobiography-“

Damian was chortling, while Bruce was steadily growing more purple. Dick was giggling though, and Cass was listening with rapt attention. “You wrote a book?” She asked innocently. 

“I really ought to, I have a great many things to say, and much wisdom to impart,” Jason preened, only to frown when Tim started making hacking noises like a cat struggling with a hairball.

Dick settled in next to Damian. “You have a wonderful soul, Dami,” he said softly. “I can’t imagine that anyone with as much love as you have in your heart can ever be bound for suffering.” He pulled Damian so that the boy was snug against his side, his head on Dick’s chest. “And no matter what happens, I’ll follow you and come and get you, so that we can be together.”

“Oh good,” Damian smiled like a skink that had had a nice nap. “I shall never have to be lonely then.”

“I don’t know why everyone is talking about dying,” Tim piped up, “not when I am so close to achieving immortality for us all!”

Bruce growled, and Cass acted quickly, scurrying off with Tim in a bridal carry to the other end of the room. Jason took advantage of the newly vacated space to plop himself on the sofa next to Bruce, who jumped at the sudden hairy, muscular, intrusion, so different from lithe, slippery Tim.

“I think I understand what Damian means when he complains about your body hair,” Bruce groused at Jason, who snorted.

“Aw, you’re just jealous because I surpassed you as the hairiest person in this house.”

“I assure you that I am not jealous.”

Jason stared at Bruce, who was in turn staring at Damian, who was helping Terry to learn how to dodge attacks. “No, no Terrence, you must dodge, not hug me- no child, you must move away, oh fine,” Damian sighed, and settled for Terry hugging his knee. 

“We could have missed this,” Bruce said. “And everything that follows.”

“But we won’t,” Jason said. “Bruce, man, it’ll take time, but we can accept that Damian’s not going anywhere.”

Bruce forced down an incredulous giggle and nodded. “He’s safe. We’re safe.”

Jason nodded. “Keep saying it until it’s true, old man.”

Bruce smiled, the knowledge of the truth warming his heart. “We are safe.”

***

***

It was two weeks before Bruce allowed Damian to go on his first mission apart from the family. The Justice League Dark had stumbled upon a case, and they required a fire-mage - which Damian apparently was.

“Yes, ‘tis true, I am able to summon the hellfire that is the element of my demonic roots,” Damian said, bouncing happily. 

John Constantine looked amused by Damian, and looked at Raven. “Nice apprentice.”

“Thank you, he is very vicious,” Raven demurred. 

Damian beamed. “Can I go? Please?” He asked, tugging at Dick’s sleeve. 

Dick, true to form, fretted. “Well…” He looked at Tim, who mouthed the word ‘immortality’ at him happily. “I would be happier if someone could go with you-”

“Mistress Raven will be with me,” Damian said. “As will the Lady Zatara, and Constantine, and that ghost person.”

“Deadman,” Boston Brand muttered, floating sullenly overtop. Then, seeing an opportunity, he quickly phased through Jason’s intestines, making him squeal. 

“Please Dami, I’m just a bit nervous,” Dick said. “I would just act as an observer.”

Damian frowned. “I understand…”

“Dami,” Dick said gently, “sometimes it’s alright to take time to heal. This is a good mission to get your feet wet again, and for me to...start realizing that you’re growing up,” he smiled. 

Damian nodded. “Alright then. I suppose father is coming too?”

“He’s already in the batmobile.”

Damian grinned. “Then let us go, onward to justice and adventure!”

***

Dick and Bruce watched from the rooftop of a nearby building as the Justice League Dark infiltrated their target - a museum - to secure a time travelling evil bloke from the past who was trying to steal back a powerful artifact. They could see the shadows of the battle, with Damain’s flame walls visible, shooting upwards to form shields. 

“I wish I could see him,” Bruce fretted, “to know that he is safe.”

“He’s fine,” Tim’s voice crackled through the earpiece. “I stitched a body scan tracker into the waistband of Damian’s undies. It monitors his pulse, blood pressure, and cortisol levels. He’s doing fine, just in the heat of battle. Everything’s normal.”

“It’s taking too long,” Dick whispered. “I know we said that we wouldn’t interfere, but what if they need help?”

“I think we should- wait!” Bruce hissed, pointing at a large figure that was barrelling towards the museum. “It’s King Shark!”

Batman and Nightwing swung into action, but by the time they had got to the scene of the battle, it was over. The evildoer had been dispatched, and Raven was busy securing the artifact, while Damian was looking up in awe at King Shark, who for his part was speaking to a blushing Constantine. 

“Robin!” Batman called. Damian looked over and waved. 

“What ho family! We were victorious!”

Dick embraced his baby brother. “I’m so proud, Robin!” Damian accepted the hug and preened like a peacock.

“What is King Shark doing here?” Bruce asked lowly, to which Damian shrugged.

“I know not, but he came running in and threw the villain through the portal that Lady Zatara had conjured.”

They walked over to King Shark, who had his arms crossed and was speaking to Constantine, who was still blushing brightly enough that he could have been an effective lighthouse beacon.

“-you didn’t need to worry, King, I was alright,” Constantine muttered.

“Of course I worry. And I was right to, you have hurt your leg,” King Shark said.

“It’s just a sprained ankle,” Constantine muttered.

“Then you shouldn’t put your weight on it,” King Shark said gently. Then, without warning, he scooped Constanting into his arms, where the normally stoic man bit his lip and furiously refused to make eye contact with any of his comrades.

“What’s going on here?” Bruce growled. 

King Shark looked at Batman. “I am taking John home. He has hurt himself.”

“You? But-” Bruce suddenly realised what was going on, and drew back, looking at Constantine with wary eyes. “If that is what Constantine wants.”

King Shark rumbled a low laugh. “I know what Constantine wants.”

“Delicate ears!” Dick hissed, covering Damian's ears with his hands. King Shark only laughed. 

“I did not realize that you were a hero as well, King Shark,” Damian said innocently. “Though you are very 'swole' and 'buff' as Red Hood describes himself.”

King Shark bared his fangs in an awful smile. “Why thank you, little morsel.”

“We could have brought John back just fine," Raven muttered. 

“Yes, but why shouldn't I help?” King Shark leered. “There is nothing wrong with a little support, is there, John?”

“N-no, not at all,” Constantine mumbled, uncharacteristically shy. 

In the batmobile on the way home, Damian glued himself to Dick's side. “Thank you Grayson,” he muttered. “I appreciated that you were present to look after me today. I'm sorry that I was resistant to the idea at first.”

“I know that you're a very good fighter, Dami,” Dick said, “and I'm sorry that you felt that I'd ever doubt that. I just needed a little reassurance, I guess. The support went both ways.”

Damian grinned, and shuffled around. “Something is poking my hip.”

“It's probably the tracker that Timmy sowed into your undies.”

“WHAT!” 

“To be fair, he put one in Bruce's undies too.”

“WHAT!” Bruce roared.

And just like that, the Bats were back in business.


End file.
